


The Art of Persuasion

by Val_Creative



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, POV First Person, Sexual Content, Twincest, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-16 18:52:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"…if I can get your clothes off of you… will you let me go as you downstairs…?" Not like I have much choice. My wrists are starting to lose blood circulation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Persuasion

**Author's Note:**

> Deleted scene, set in the fifth volume of the manga.

 

_-_

_-_

_-_

" _That guy Arai—he's leaving." (1)_

Good riddance. The jerk.

" _How about we go and apologize? Okay?" (1)_

How about _NOT_ okay, Kaoru? _YOU_ go apologize since you want to so badly.

So what if I am acting childish? I just don't like that guy. He is trying to steal our friends. The ones we worked hard to keep. Like Haruhi. Now I know her true colors. She would throw us away like yesterday's garbage for this lame guy. You are _trying_ to make me mad by treating me like a little kid, rubbing my hands comfortingly and using a soft voice.

And I _know_ you can see my irritated frown by the way, when you smile with the corner of your left lip all crooked like that… I _know_ you are pretending not to be smug and resisting the urge to rub it in my face all because you know what I'm thinking.

And how about you _MAKE_ me go out there, Kaoru, freaking _MAKE_ me…

You pause a moment to examine me on the mattress, tilting your head slightly to the right and asking with that stupid, skeptic tone, " _Is that how it is going to be, Hikaru?"_

Yes.

It is.

Kaoru, you will have to drag me there as a corpse first. And there in no way in _HELL_ that I am going to let you take _my clothes_ and parade around downstairs as me.

But that is what you want to do, isn't it? I can tell by the obvious way you eye my red jersey.

"Bite. Me."

And you do. On my ear, you idiot! It hurts! You already have pushed me on my back with the sheets and have pinned my wrists down at my sides, your face lowered into the crook of my neck, the gentle ends of your short hair prickling the sensitive flesh there.

…must…resist…urge…to shiver…

It doesn't help that you are breathing heavily in my ear canal.

"… _if I can get your clothes off of you… will you let me go as you downstairs…?"_

Not like I have much choice. My wrists are starting to lose blood circulation.

You sit up between my legs, and lower your face, sadly mistaken in thinking I don't see the smirk pulling on your allegedly 'neutral' expression. Cause I can. I cringe a little at the sensation of something wet and moist pressing onto my stomach, sliding up my chest as your hands work up my black muscle shirt and jersey. I don't know whether to kick you off or hope that you realize before it's too late that we are _twins_. Not lovers.

Not like that had stopped us last weekend… but it _can't_ happen again. I _can't_ jerk off alone in the bathroom to the memory of you arching and naked on all fours in front of me, pushing back on my cock, or sucking the come off of my fingers like a hungry kitten. It's not just noises but how you bite too hard and drawn blood, or how you scratch too hard and draw blood…

I'm already throbbing at the thought. You take notice of it and manage to worm a hand underneath the lip of my jeans, leaving a squeeze promising _Later_ without moving your mouth from my right nipple. Your teeth mock the word before clenching down harshly.

Wait a minute… how did both of my shirts get on the bedroom floor…?

Damn you, Kaoru… _if you get my jeans…_

Too late. Your hands already warm from massaging my hands and my chest have unzipped the fly and pushed down my underwear enough to free me from the cotton material. Too tight anyway. You lick your lips (again reminding me of a scheming, greedy cat) and blow faintly on me, watching on satisfied as my cock grows an angrier red. At this point I would strip _you_ down and have my way with you but it's painfully distracting.

Usually you would be teasing me now about what I want you to _do to me_ , making me _beg_ for it, but you are strangely silent throughout the process. You must really want to go downstairs as 'Hikaru' and apologize to everyone for my rant.

I would have never noticed how you gradually slipped my jeans from my knees to my ankles, dragging along my underwear, as I was being too preoccupied with biting the knuckles hard enough to leave dents on my fist to keep from moaning aloud (and having the noise bring some curious guest at the Karuizawa to inspect this room).

Clumsily, I dislodge my now drooled-on fist and dig my fingers into your hair, groaning muffled behind clamped lips as you let out an amused sigh and creep your lips over my head, swirling your tongue rhythmically and torturing me by swallowing, the walls of your throat pressing sweetly and thickly against my aching cock. It would never feel as good as you in my lap panting, as I would pump into you and graze my lips possessively over yours.

Just thinking secretly about the next opportunity, risking being caught somewhere in the hallway at the Academy riding into you against the wall, squirming and disheveled in my arms, the pressure of your clenching legs wrapped around my waist as an orgasm rolls your amber eyes back…

The fantasy helps me finish with a loosened cry of effort, flushing into your mouth and you not spilling a drop. The one that did get away I reached out affectionately and wiped clean from your chin.

A little red in the cheeks, you smile triumphant and hold up my jeans.

" _Thank you Hikaru…"_

You quickly throw off your shirts and jeans, pulling on my shoes and clothes including the black briefs (which I only find it a little weird…because it's not like anyone is going to know what my underwear looks like and ask him to show if the underwear was 'Hikaru's). Before running out of the bedroom door, you kiss the middle of my forehead with noticeable approval.

Grumbling under my breath, I realize when you are gone that the bag of our replacement clothes has gone missing and that a lone thin white blanket is all I have to cover my freezing body trapped in air-conditioned room set permanently on **HIGH**.

Torn out of the fancy blue stationary personalized to the guests and decorated with gold curly lining from the desk, on the floor the note reads: _In Laundry_. _Sorry, Hika-chan._

The jerk.

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**Author's Note:**

> (1) Original dialogue from Volume 5. Belongs to Bisco Hatori.


End file.
